50 50: Starfighter 100 Challenge
by Jinhito
Summary: Starfighter is an original sci-fi yaoi comic by HamletMachine. This is a collection of 100 drabble challenges for both main characters. Each submission has its own individual notes and rating.
1. days

**title:** days**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** abel**  
word count:** 215**  
rating:** G**  
warnings:** implied abuse**  
notes:** n/a

**007. days**

Cain is still in the shower. Abel has been counting the seconds since the water started running. Another minute or two and he knows that the faucet will twist off and only the single vent cycling damp humid air in their room will be the last thing left to hear.

Then he'll have nowhere else to hide.

Their standard issue dorm is only wide enough to allow for fifteen paces wall to wall, back and forth. Two double beds eat up the rest of the remaining space and no additional furniture besides a split dresser is present.

He curls in on himself when the sound of water in the pipes cuts out. Abel never bothers to change out of his plug suit anymore either, lately he just doesn't see the point, so instead he trembles and waits.

The door to their bathroom creaks open and he hears hot steam escape into the room with a hiss; it raises the temperature of the air slightly. Then he hears footsteps... forceful, menacing and heavy make their way across the room.

Ten. Eleven. Right on top of the bed.

"Navigator."

Three days have passed since his new assignment under the name 'Abel' and he still hasn't reported Cain or his actions to any of the starfleets commanding officers.


	2. healing

**title:** healing**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** cain**  
word count:** 236**  
rating:** PG-13**  
warnings:** adult language**  
notes:** you can get away with one nowadays****

080. healing

"Hey!"

Abel picks his head up with a jerk, every muscle in his body hesitating _almost_ defiantly. But Cain knows he doesn't have the backbone to actually act on that sudden instinct... just thinks it's a damn shame either way 'cause maybe it might've helped him avoid meeting monsters...

"Come here," Cain leers at his navigator with a curling finger.

They're currently prepping to launch for a routine flight exercise but even if this little humor of his delays them by a minute or two, he couldn't give two shits.

Abel walks towards him... slowly, cautiously and stops just outside of arms reach.

"Come here," Cain repeats, louder this time. His quick hand manages to find its way onto the sharp downward angles of Abel's chin, but only after much struggling.

"Give me your fac- stop fucking fighting and _**give me your face**_!" he spits past bared teeth, and even through the layer of latex from his body suit he can feel himself digging his blunt-edged fingernails into the others skin.

Abel finally stops resisting and he simply stares.

Cain's pupils are like fine pinpricks and for a moment Abel doesn't breathe.

Then Cain lets him go, throws his face away like it was nothing more than trash. But Abel knows there was more to it than that... he watches Cain's back as he slips on his helmet and adjusts the visor.

"Your _scar's_ healing nicely."


	3. taste

**title: **taste**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** cain**  
word count:** 205**  
rating:** G**  
warnings:** n/a**  
notes:** wishful thinking maybe artistic license****

039. taste

"You... you bit me!"

He sounds so shocked... scandalized almost, even though he did nothing to stop the assault from happening just moments before.

Cain doesn't meet his eyes because what's done is done.

"That's not a bite. That's a scar," he states matter-of-factly. Abel is hiccupping quietly, trying his hardest not cry anymore from the sudden sharp pain in both his torn upper and lower lips. Cain bit him deep and he knows it, but his attitude shows no remorse.

"Everyone will know you belong to me now."

There's a sick sense of ownership behind that remark and Cain watches Abel shudder with fear and loathing... maybe pleasure?

"A scar!?"

Blood continues to slowly dribble down his chin. He had tried to halt the flow with the back of his hand; it didn't do him any good.

"You... you're psychotic! How could you do something like that?!"

An accusing finger points at him, right between the eyes, and he follows the line of Abel's forearm to his arm, up along his shoulder and right to his face. As he watches the blood seep from Abel's cut lips into his mouth, Cain catches himself distinctly wondering what it tastes like.

Then he sucks his teeth.


	4. choices

**title:** choices**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** abel**  
word count:** 160**  
rating:** G**  
warnings:** n/a**  
notes:** n/a****

086. choices

**「 ****This is CC to the ship Tiberius -- Your life support is failing -- Get back into formation ****」**

Abel's ears perk at the static orders from Command Control. He's not been in battle long enough to ignore all the commands meant for other ships.

**「 ****I -- I can't sir -- ****」** cuts in shortly after.

**「 ****My Navigator's dead -- The engine's blown, I'm dead in the water ****」**

Abel shuts his eyes and tries to place the voice. He'd be the worst kind of person if he couldn't even remember a face from the same squads he's watched launch countless times before.

**「 ****There's two enemy ships heading towards me -- ****」**

It takes him a split second to decide.

Cain will not be happy with this.

His fingertips are already rerouting power to their burst thrusters before the words even leave his mouth.

**「 ****Tiberius, this is the Reliant -- We're coming to you ****」**


	5. ends

**title:** ends**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** abel**  
word count:** 212**  
rating:** PG-13**  
warnings**: adult language**  
notes:** n/a****

003. ends

**「 ****CC this is Reliant -- We've been hit ****」**

Abel dips his fingertips back into the command console, quickly trying to assess the amount of damage through feel of the ships steering alone.

"Shit-!" he hears Cain yelling from behind him, and Abel sucks his bottom lip in as he wrestles for control of his right wing engine. Nothing is responding to the commands he's frantically typing in, and he can see that they're leaking fuel from some unknown breech in the hull of their fighter.

"Fffffuck!" Cain is using every word he's ever heard and suddenly a sharp jolt shoots Abel into the dash with the reels of his seat harness shrieking to stop him from colliding with the hard metal and structural glass.

**「 ****Reliant -- This -- CC -- Coun -- Own till -- Atter Canon ****」**

The impact of his brain in his skull leaves him disoriented, but he can vaguely hear commands from the direct-link transmitter.

"Cain...? C-cain?" he can't hear anything from the back of the cockpit, which is cause for concern because Cain **always** has something to say about his navigating. Static fizzes in over the transmitter as Abel's heart is thundering in his ears.

**「 ****Three -- Wo -- Ne ****」**

_Is this how it's going to end?_


	6. joker

**title:** joker**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** cain**  
word count:** 198**  
rating:** PG-13**  
warnings:** nudity and adult concepts**  
notes:** n/a****

048. joker

Abel may not have known before, but Cain has always been viewed as a highly renowned member of starfleet. His reflexes are keen, his judgment and cognitive abilities more sound than other fighters even if the logic he uses to come to his conclusions is not. But most importantly, he has always been well received within the community of officials and other starfighters.

Cain scrutinizes himself in front of the mirror, naked, dripping wet from a quick rinse in the shower. Modesty has never been his thing and after his roommate and he had come to an arrangement of sorts earlier that month, he doesn't see any reason why it should matter any more either.

He tugs at his lower lip to reveal a row of glossy white teeth, and then runs his tongue along the top to feel for grooves he knows are there but can't quite see. Abel is watching him from across the room, curled up on his mattress. They haven't spoken since they got back from a launch, but it doesn't matter.

Cain knows what they both want.

He smiles widely at his reflection in the mirror, teeth perfectly aligned and gleaming with intent.


	7. over

**title:** over**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** cain**  
word count:** 180**  
rating:** R**  
warnings:** implied sexual content**  
notes:** n/a****

069. over

Cain is pretty sure he's read somewhere that sex serves other purposes. There's no denying that it's pleasurable... maybe more to one party than the other, but it's also about power and control. The act itself is animalistic, naked violence even in nature. It breaks, stretches and tears at insides, squeezes, tightens and asphyxiates so deliciously... his lips are chapped, but who gives a fuck as long as they keep going at this pace.

Abel's so supple beneath him, bending and molding into what he knows Cain wants him to be. Both their bodies are sticky with sweat by now, and Abel knows this little game of teasing foreplay is coming to an end. He slithers out of Cain's grip, but not so far from commandeering fingers, just far enough to get a reaction.

Cain snorts lightly with a smirk and shoves his partner further into the sheets on the bed.

Abel's always so welcoming inside... Cain gasps as the tightness only another body can provide engulfs him whole and he lifts Abel's legs up and over his own head.


	8. deaf

**title:** deaf**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject: **abel**  
word count:** 204**  
rating:** PG-13**  
warnings:** implied sexual content**  
notes:** n/a****

082. deaf

The sound of the central air unit rattles quietly behind the walls.

Abel knows that even though a majority of their starship is made of high-grade steel, it still reverberates with any movement from within... people walking, machines running, engines turning over. He shuts his eyes and doesn't move.

Cain is in the bed with him, has been there incapacitated for the last couple hours or so since they finished fucking.

Abel wishes he wouldn't call it that... but he doubts Cain has better words for the things they do.

And he knows that _this_, what he lets Cain do to him, is not something either of them mutually understands - but he likes to pretend they do anyway. That maybe this runs deeper than just the superficial graze of pleasure they both get out of it. Maybe it could mean more, maybe it does...

He keeps his eyes closed and listens to Cain's heart pounding behind hard bone and sinew, the muscle pumps clearly and evenly in the silence of their room. Abel can hear nothing else.


	9. strangers

**title:** strangers**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** abel**  
word count:** 136**  
rating:** PG-13**  
warnings:** implied adult content**  
notes:** n/a****

025. strangers

Cain is in their room, lying on his bed.

Abel doesn't know how much time has gone by since he said he'd be right back but it's not been long enough and the self-conscious feelings of what am I doing and how could I have let this happen are still wafting around in the bathroom and staring back at him mockingly from the mirror.

**You wanted this, **he tells himself.

**You have no one to blame but yourself.**

Out of the corner of his eye he can still see dried blood and the teeth marks, pain no longer present, on his left shoulder. It reflects back, a reminder that this is not a dream.

**And I've only known him since this morning...**

A sick feeling is making itself at home in the pit of his stomach.


	10. king

**title:** king**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** cain**  
word count:** 132**  
rating:** PG-13**  
warnings:** implied adult content**  
notes:** n/a****

046. king

Abel writhes underneath him, eyes blissfully shut, mouth gaping open and wordlessly gasping for more, such a pretty little navigator... Everyone knows it, who's taking what, and who belongs to whom.

Almost every fighter-navigator team has some kind of power struggle, more often than not it results in the disbanding of a pair, but Cain is the best and Abel is the best and it just wouldn't make sense if they were to be separated over something so petty.

And what a shame that would be, especially now since Abel finally seems to have melded into the place where he belongs best; bossed around, sexed up, and held down.

_There is no greater power one man can wield over another_, Cain thinks, because here he is the king; this is his domain.


	11. pull

**title:** pull**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** abel**  
word count:** 130**  
rating:** G**  
warnings:** n/a**  
notes:** n/a****

032. pull

It could have gone better, Abel thinks, trudging slowly down the barracks hall after Cain. Two units, eight starfighters, all of them lost…

His insides burn and can't seem to settle right. There's an innate sense of camaraderie that Abel feels for other teams, something about knowing and understanding all the hardships they've gone through (individually of course but somehow also together) – double-chromosome feelings Cain calls them, a sneer to the womanly empathy he manages to have even in the complete absence of women on starfleet.

Too many men, too much testosterone, whatever... They stop in front of their door, dorm room 87 and Cain hasn't said a thing to him yet.

Abel is the one who eventually leans over and pushes the open button before pulling them both inside.


	12. food

**title:** food**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** cain**  
word count: **166**  
rating:** PG**  
warnings:** n/a**  
notes:** n/a

**059. food**

Like a well-oiled machine, everything moving precisely in time, the alarm for morning-meal sounds and the heavy doors to the cafeteria raise up. Hundreds of starfighters, all with similar training agendas march in. Some are silent, others talking, a few even laughing; meals are part of the few recreation hours they are allotted with the other soldiers aboard starfleet.

Cain does not participate, instead makes a beeline for a tray and a spot in line. He's never been a big socialite although it would be wrong not to acknowledge that he is popular among other fighters. It has something to do with his official ranking on the fighters roster, being in the top ten percentile or some bullshit...

The only thing that makes today different form any other day, is that he does not wait in line alone, he does not sit down to eat alone.

Instead his newly assigned navigator, codenamed Abel, accompanies him. Cain watches the other set his tray down opposite his own.


	13. sight

**title: **sight**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject: **cain**  
word count:** 178**  
rating: **G**  
warnings:** n/a**  
notes:** it's official, i got HM's permission to write for this series YES also merry christmas

**040. sight**

"Well, will you?"

Starcommander Bering sat opposite him, eyes steely and fingers intertwined. The mission report they were currently discussing sat flipped through and open-faced with a picture and information on a new recruit to Starfleet.

"Any reason why you chose me, sir?"

His fingers made their way up to the desk and slid the papers closer.

"No reason in particular," Commander Bering offered, "but let's just say I need a committed officer for this assignment."

He smirked back at his superior, "I see no good deed goes unnoticed..."

Commander Bering shared the look, "There are many things I know. You are not exempt from any sort of scrutiny."

"Dirty pool old man... I'll take it."

The manila folder was given to him, all in good conscience. Before he made it out the door, Commander Bering stopped him.

"Report at 0900 hours for further instructions, Cain."

Cain raised his hand in acknowledgment and led himself unescorted back to the fighter's barracks with the future clutched tightly in his hand.

If he knew better, and he most certainly did, he sure as hell knew a good prospect when he saw one.


	14. under

**title:** under**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** abel**  
word count:** 271**  
rating:** R**  
warnings:** implied sexual content**  
notes:** i like a sexually aggressive abel hahurr

**070. under**

For most of his life, Abel can clearly say that he's been of the submissive persuasion. Not by choice, but through environment... his upbringing or some other logical reasoning. That sort of beaten in behavior should not be expected to change overnight, however since meeting his newly assigned fighter Cain, some of those otherwise meek tendencies have altogether disappeared.

"You like that don't you?" he breathes harshly, grinding his hips down against Cain's. They've just returned from a battle, some kind of half-assed sneak attempt on the Alliance's new satellite systems... with Cain's sure shot accuracy and his own impressive evasive maneuvering, they're no match for anyone... except maybe each other.

Cain's rock hard and moaning like some cheap whore under him, when they close the doors what happens next is strictly between them. Latex fingertips are clawing at the zipper on the back of his flight suit; they get so clumsy and stupid when they're horny.

"Take it off... **now**," Abel chokes out as Cain sucks at a small amount of flesh he's somehow gained access to under the others' chin. They fumble around some more before Abel finally manages to peel Cain's suit halfway down. He's directing this session and Abel snakes his hand down to squeeze his partner's erection, _**hard**_, to remind him just who it is that's in control here.

"Aa_arg_h f-fuck," Cain gasps and Abel can feel fingers digging into his ass. His lips curve up in a smile more like a smirk. He pulls the suit down further exposing more of Cain to the cool air circulating in their dormitory.

"So fuck me," he orders.


	15. lips

**title:** lips**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** cain**  
word count:** 198**  
rating:** PG**  
warnings:** n/a**  
notes:** n/a****

018. lips

Abel's always had a bit of a pouty mouth, his lips almost too full to be a man's. Cain smirks as he runs his fingers along the outer rim of his partner's lower lip. It's been a couple weeks since they first met, and that little bite he left (despite the big gush of blood it produced) has healed rather nicely. The mark is straight, an extremely sharp pinch of canines.

He bet it hurt like hell too.

Cain's index finger hooks into the wet flesh on the inside of Abel's mouth, he tugs and the other lets him without protest. He knows Cain gets off on this sort of thing, admiring his handiwork and what it means.

"Kiss me?" Abel's captive lower lip fumbles the words around Cain's finger. He smiles lazily, eyes heavy lidded and burning for something more than just some kinky foreplay. Cain fishhooks his finger up to the highest corner of Abel's mouth and reels him in roughly.

They meet with open mouths, teeth clicking briefly before tongues help to buffer the kiss. Cain can hear Abel gasping for air, and he wonders if he's really the only one with this strange fetish.


	16. teammates

**title:** teammates**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** abel**  
word count:** 349**  
rating:** PG-13**  
warnings:** shower nudity and implied adult content**  
notes:** this actually didn't turn out how i expected it to at all... not canon

**026. teammates**

"Shower with me?" he asks, a familiar face from his training squadron, name is Gabriel. His hair is longer now, more of a platinum blonde from routine bleaching, but he still looks the same otherwise. Abel finishes peeling his flight suit off and pitches it into his locker before grabbing the nearest towel and following his fellow navigator to the showering stalls.

Cool damp tile greets their feet; other navigators pass them by as they enter. Thick frosted glass, strategically placed, separates men but does nothing else to preserve modesty.

"That was one hell of a flight sim don't you think?" Gabriel attempts idle conversation with Abel; they're not friends but they are comrades having taken the lecture courses and numerous simulated missions together. He watches the Reliant's pilot lather a frothy mess of soap in the palms of his hands, here everything is standard issue from suits to suds, Gabriel begins to wash himself with the same unscented mixture.

"It was all right," Abel finally replies, working the muscles of his neck. He hisses slightly when he presses too hard on tender skin under his chin.

"You okay?" Gabriel stops washing his hair to lean closer to Abel's stall.

"It's nothing," is the quick reply and they resume washing.

"So how is the new assignment with your fighter going?"

Abel stops and thinks of a way to word things. He's avoided showering in the communal barracks before, even if his only company is navigators here, some of them are prone to running their mouths.

"Fine," he says after a time and turns to look Gabriel in the eye, "and you?"

Navigators are more gracile by nature of starfleets selection program; the other hesitates for a moment and now Abel sees firsthand just how a fighter could fantasize about breaking something so visibly weak.

"The same."

They quit talking and finish up in the quiet of running water. Neither of them wants to acknowledge the unusual pattern of bruising they carry at the junctures of their hips or the fingernail marks raking down the lower portions of their backs.


	17. red

**title:** red**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** abel**  
word count:** 298**  
rating:** PG-13**  
warnings:** n/a**  
notes:** i _**really**_ like a sexually aggressive abel really

**013. red**

_Am I dreaming or is this really happening?_

Cain pushes his back hard into the wall, traps him within the space of his arms and invades whatever little distance separates them. Abel feels his face flush instantaneously; only a little ashamed of how quickly Cain can unravel all of his self-control.

"Give it to me," he exhales with eyes half lidded. It doesn't even sound like his voice anymore, Cain just stares at him cryptically.

Abel leans in and sucks at the piercing in Cain's left ear, too impatient to wait for the physical contact he's just aching for. He doesn't even notice when Cain's hand creeps up from his backside to slide into the hair on the nape of his neck. The fingers grab a fist of platinum tugging Abel a few inches away from their owner. Cain has another unreadable expression now, his teeth glowering on his lower lip tucked tight beneath them.

"Cain?" he holds his breath.

The next touch is suspiciously gentle, a slow trace of tongue just outside his mouth and a soft nibble on the bottom of his lip. He closes his eyes fooled, if only for a second, before a sharp pain jolts him upright.

It's that same fucking sharp pain he's experienced before and the kiss they share turns metallic and red. He struggles to shove Cain off before his hand reflexes to exact revenge.

The sound of the slap echoes in the empty hall and Cain's cheek immediately begins to darken a deep rose. Abel isn't about to let himself feel any remorse for the action.

"That hurts," he says matter of factly, waiting for Cain to look him in the eye and hoping that some of the blood on the others lips is not just his own anymore.


	18. thoughts

**title:** thoughts**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** cain**  
word count:** 252**  
rating:** PG**  
warnings:** n/a**  
notes:** i wonder****

041. thoughts

He thinks he knows what he's doing... but he can't really be sure. When he decided to take this mission, he made a deal not to get involved beyond what was required. Only enough to complete the assignment, that's what he said, but now it's becoming more than that...

He's caught himself re-reading paperwork, all the compiled information on his partner, things that are both public and private knowledge. He's studied his past, knows about his family and the life he led before becoming a fleet cadet; could even call him by his _real_ name, which is something completely unheard of on starfleet.

Code names are given for a reason.

Cain watches Abel sleep from across the room. He had another round of interrogating to attend and rejoining Abel in the bed now would only seem more conspicuous since he's been working so hard to make this appear as a physical relationship only from day one.

But he can't help but wonder... after spending more than a month with this man and sharing more than just his skin with him, what does Abel really feel about their little affair?

He knows it's something that Abel has always secretly fantasized about having, but did he also want the emotional hang up as well? All of the unexpected and nasty baggage that goes along with fucking your fellow starfighter... Cain readjusts his arms under his head.

For them, things are complicated. Thinking about it now would only serve to make things even more disconcerting.


	19. sound

**title:** sound**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** cain**  
word count:** 272**  
rating:** PG**  
warnings:** n/a**  
notes: **n/a****

037. sound

"Kiss me," he says in that cool smooth way of his that drives Abel crazy as the words graze lightly along skin. They're in the hallway, alone for now, waiting for the imminent sound of the alarm to shriek again and summon all fighting units to the launch docks.

They don't see too much of each other these days, not since Abel got promoted to command control where he keeps his watchful gaze on all the fighters launched into the deep black of space.

It's rather lonesome without him, but Cain won't admit it. His newbie navigator isn't so bad after all but he's definitely _no Abel_.

"C-cain..." Abel whispers, ears and eyes suspicious to any noise or movement in the background. He refocuses only when Cain slams an arm down next to his head on the cold metal of a stairwell door. He should be climbing those steps by now to take his position at the main computer counsel but suddenly it's so hard to get away.

Cain leans in towards his old partner with a predatory look and presses their mouths together in a kiss that makes everything else suddenly insignificant. Abel doesn't fight him, doesn't even try to protest and he knows it's because they've both missed this.

They pull away from each other with wet lips and less air in their lungs. Cain readjusts his helmet under his right arm and smirks knowing Abel's answer before he even asks the question.

"Wait for me after mission?"

Abel flushes in the most deliciously shameful manner. Cain licks his lips before taking off in the direction of the ships hanger.


	20. dark

**title:** dark**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** abel**  
word count:** 215**  
rating:** PG**  
warnings:** n/a**  
notes:** best proverb ever****

074. dark

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Why do you have to ruin everything?! Can't you ever act like a _decent person_?!"

Abel swipes at the blood around his mouth. He's still a little shocked that Cain bit him... again, and that he even had the gall to cause injury back. He doesn't regret it - at first - until Cain has him by the collar of his jacket and is using the backs of his feet to rim him along a cliff suddenly appeared.

"What... what is this?!"

Abel gasps in fear, this doesn't make any sense but he's not aware enough to peg this moment as a dream. It's too real and too scary and too much too fast for him to even process just what's going to happen next.

"If you wanted a decent person," Cain gives him the most dark and sinister look he can muster, "maybe you should have slept with one."

The accusation stings, but there's no going back now. Cain rushes in quickly to lap up the last of the blood seeping from Abel's reopened wound. It's sharp and metallic, nothing delectable, but he never seems to tire of the taste.

"You made your bed," he says, words likes knives, "now lie in it."

Then he lets go.


	21. water

**title: **water  
**fandom:** starfighter  
**subject: **abel  
**word count:** 349  
**rating:** R  
**warnings: **implied sexual content  
**notes:** medical terminology _yea bby_

**  
051. water**

The nightmare jolts him wide-awake. Abel's pupils are dilated and his heart is wildly pounding from all the adrenaline his sympathetic nervous system can manage. Sweat slicks his skin and is sticking him to the sheets; despite the large amount covering him Abel feels utterly cold.

At once he notices that Cain is missing. Though he's grateful for the reprieve he can hear the shower running. The other can't be far.

Lately the dreams keep getting worse, becoming more and more realistic as time goes by but he can't tell if they're just extensions of his interpersonal paranoia or if they actually mean something more. Abel pushes back the covers and steps out of bed as naked as last night with cool air from the room nipping at his flesh.

He needs to urinate, the urge strong enough to override any leftover fear. His presence engages the automatic sliding door and warm steam from the shower stall causes the tiny cutaneous muscles under his skin to contract and prickle his dermis into an unpleasant array of bumps. He soothes them down with touch and pretends not to see Cain out of the corner of his eye with a smirk so knowing plastered on his face as he continues to bathe behind glass.

Abel walks to the toilet and begins to relieve himself, he knows Cain is watching, can see his reflection staring him down from the mirror, but he doesn't want to give him any sort of satisfaction.

So what if it's true that he likes what they do, that he knows he's being used for one reason or another and that nothing intimate they share goes beyond where they do it? Everyone has their own reasons; he's only human too.

When he's finished, he flushes the toilet and turns to see Cain with his cock in his hand already making faces and alluding to all the indecent things he wants the both of them to be doing.

Abel walks to the stall and slides the glass door open. They don't seem to notice as water floods the floor.


	22. passing

**title:** passing  
**fandom:** starfighter  
**subject: **cain  
**word count:** 337  
**rating: **R  
**warnings:** adult language  
**notes:** non sequitur to canon

**  
065. passing**

"So I hear you caught yourself a flighty little navi eh, _Cain_?"

He shrugs it off, a shit eating grin smug on his face. He and a few other fighters are dressing after their monthly physical. Fighters tend to be more aggressive due to the large amounts of supplemental hormone added to their diet, which in turn could possibly increase their risk of health complications. Examinations are mandatory and typically five men or more are scheduled with the same physician at the same time.

Modesty means nothing here and Cain just slips back into his flight suit not even bothering to cover anything above the waist.

"Hmmm, _jealous_ Ezekiel?" he leans back against the lockers; elbows spread wide apart to keep both his balance and show off his superiority.

The other fighter laughs before making a rude gesture, there is some truth in those words because physical affection is hard to come by around here and you have to take what you can when you can from whom you can overpower.

"Depends," Ezekiel thinks out loud as he zips up the back of his flight suit, hand carefully holding long black hair high out of reach of metallic teeth, "he any good?"

Cain pushes off the lockers and swipes two fingers under his fellow fighters nose. They both understand the gesticulation and even though it's a little repulsive to think about it's also a sign of masculine pride; a chance to wallow in your own glory.

"Wouldn't know," Cain teases, "haven't fucked him yet this morning." Ezekiel punches him, hard, in the back between his shoulder blades. The other laughs it off and heads in the direction of the bridge elevators.

"You're fucking disgusting you know that?" Ezekiel says. "How did you ever pass for a decent human being?"

Cain gives him one of the more disturbing smiles they both know he's capable of producing.

"I don't," he says matter of factly, "but who ever said I was trying to pass for human anyway?"

And they laugh.


	23. disease

**title: **disease  
**fandom:** starfighter  
**subject: **cain  
**word count:** 399  
**rating: **G  
**warnings:** non-canon probably  
**notes:** "_I enjoy that your Cain is really just a sociopath_" - daitai otonashii ookami

**078. disease**

"Results?"

The starfleets new recruits doctor swallows thickly. Commander Bering is staring him down, a man of few words and harsh looks. He tries not to fumble his reports and appear confident in the observations he's required to share.

"Well," he begins almost trepid, "we tested both the physical and mental capacities of all the new recruits and results are promising - save a few..."

"What few?" the Commander cuts in.

"Well you see, sir, although most men are physically able to launch for immediate training on starbase, a handful have some rather... disturbing empathetic disorders, which may make attempts to integrate them into such an isolated community as starfleet for suspended periods of time somewhat dangerous..."

"How dangerous?"

It was like a dare. The examining physician lowers his eyes, trying to look everywhere but the man towering over him. He motions to a one-way looking glass and they both gaze at the man bathed in artificial light on the other side. He's tan and striking, his supposed demeanor fierce enough to match his looks. Commander Bering studies him closely before holding out a hand to receive the official report written up by the doctor.

The file is handed over quickly and without hesitation. The man of lesser rank waits for his superior's final orders.

"So be it," he his handed the files back.

The physician breathes a sigh of relief that his judgments were not incorrect, extended interstellar voyages could become hazardous to all personal involved if certain cadets were considered unstable... and he knows that their predispositions could be made to be even more dangerous with the hormonal alteration process that is imminent in every fighters future.

"Ship them all out tomorrow."

"I-I... I'm sorry, sir?"

"You heard me, all of these men will launch. Save the names of those you have specifically separated out. I want them to receive a special training regime when they arrive on starbase."

"Y-yes, sir!" he stutters one last time watching the Commander's back as he exits the private screenings room.

Although he may not agree with the Commander's logic behind this decision, it does make sense to have some men at your disposal who are not afraid of dirtying their hands. Their psychological inhibitions are nearly all but absent, as in the case of the man behind the glass. They will make perfect warriors for a new and terrible era.


	24. smoke

**title:** smoke  
**fandom:** starfighter  
**subject: **cain  
**word count:** 330  
**rating:** PG-13  
**warnings:** adult language  
**notes:** I do not personally condone smoking

**096. smoke**

He smells it before he sees it, but knows what it is just the same. It stings at his eyes before the ventilation system in their bathroom sucks up any residual smoke.

Cain takes another deep drag and exhales slowly letting the ember of his _spacecraft banned_ cigarette burn leisurely in plain sight.

"H-how did you get that?" Abel moves to back out of the bathroom, the automated door snaps open. "You... you know you're not allowed to have those on starbase! You're gonna get us both in trouble, I-"

"You're gonna **what**?" Cain asks, his ever-present cockiness in the rather threatening tone of voice.

"You gonna go running to one of our commanders? Tell on me like you did with mommy and daddy?" he snorts a laugh and sucks more carcinogens out the butt of his half-spent cigarette. They're not illegal anywhere on Earth, and other than smoking stupidly around high concentrations of oxygen, Cain can't seem to understand what the fuck the big deal is all about. Not that he does this all the time... just when he needs it.

There are only four more left in his pack of twenty-one. The brand is shitty but it was cheap, he makes a mental note during the next rest period to go to a nearby starcolony and buy five more.

He finishes his smoke before he realizes Abel's still standing in the open doorway, silently watching him. When their eyes meet the navigator quickly looks away. Cain cracks a smile and turns over to the toilet before pitching the last of his cigarette into the wide porcelain bowl.

He knows the other won't say anything about this; not since he's become a _good_ boy.

"This is our little secret 'kay?" Cain breathes out against Abel's ear; the strange aftertaste of nicotine and tobacco makes this a little bit more enjoyable. His face flushes in shame; Abel feels self-control slipping away as quickly as the evidence flushes down the drain.


	25. yellow

**title:** yellow**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** abel**  
word count:** 247**  
rating:** PG-13**  
warnings:** name spoiler**  
notes: **non-canon

**015. yellow**

_You're only here cuz Daddy made a name for himself in the alliance._

**That's not true.**

_You don't have any real talent, you just suck dick to get to the top._

**That's **also** not true.**

_You're a waste of a perfectly good navigator - you'll be discharged soon enough if we're lucky._

Slander is a common consequence of being on top. Ethan knew this the moment he enlisted and received an acceptance letter from the Starfleet Academy. Sure he wasn't typical Navigator material, not born and bred for fighting... and yes it's true that he came from a relatively well to do family, but that had nothing to do with it either. His place in Starfleet was earned through countless hours of dedicated training and no half-assed shortcut or sexual favor gave him assistance in being the highest-ranking officer of his class.

Jealousy spurs his fellow navigators to try and tear him down, only recently has it occurred to him that the true color of envy is not green.

It also doesn't help that his own good standing secured him a partnership with the most skilled fighter in their fleet's quadrant. He runs his fingers nervously through his freshly bleached hair; the natural color underneath prevents the platinum from taking completely and instead leaves behind small traces of an unusual off-color blonde. As either a defiant gesture or out of sheer forgetfulness Ethan does not bleach his eyebrows.

Tomorrow they will meet and begin a new assignment.


	26. stopping

**title:** stopping**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** abel**  
word count:** 328**  
rating:** G**  
warnings:** n/a**  
notes:** non-canon.. probably

**063. stopping**

He's spoken to a handful of others throughout the day, the responses have been nothing if not concerning. Abel knows he has very few people to call friends among the navigators and though this could be some sort of ploy to shake him from his position at the top, knowing what he does now, it kind of makes sense in a frighteningly realistic sort of way.

His partner Cain is nothing if not just a hair's breadth shy of a sadist. The man is a monster dressed in a dastardly handsome skin. He is both awe-inspiring and absolutely terrifying; Abel can't decide which person he's more intimidated by.

_That one has a reputation..  
You're his third navigator in as many months._

The words disturbed him all day. No one he'd spoken to knew these two navigators personally, just that if they had been residing on this Starbase they weren't any longer. Whether or not they were transferred or discharged Abel can't seem to gather any more information about them. It's as though it were some kind of secret, the existence of two other individuals leading the life he is currently tangled up in.

It peeves him, gets under his skin in the worst kind of way.

What happened to them? Why did they stop being Cain's navigator? Should he be concerned? Is he in any immediate danger?

All of these questions without answers... he pads down a hallway leading back towards the barracks. Cain was already missing when he awoke to a red team summons and debriefing. Surely whatever he'd been called in for has ended by now.

Stopping just outside their door Abel swallows back the lump that's been forming in his throat the entire walk back. He wants answers, but knows deep down inside he's too afraid to ask for them. He breathes deeply to steady himself before punching in the key code to release the auto-lock. The metal doors slid open and he steps inside.


	27. enemies

**title:** enemies**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** abel**  
word count:** 448**  
rating:** G**  
warnings:** n/a**  
notes:** non-canon

**022. enemies**

He's made more enemies than friends here. And if he stops long enough to think about it, it could be perceived as a bad thing... but it's not. Being a starfighter has nothing to do with popularity contests and Abel isn't out to win one. He's here to prove to his Father, the pig-headed politician of some starcolony nearly three light-years away, that he has grown up and become a competent capable man able to make his own decisions.

And perhaps it's also a little bit about showing himself just how convicted he can be when dealing with the choices he's made. Everything tends to change when you finally realize just what serving the alliance means; trapped on some hunk of metal endlessly floating in space somewhere between Pluto and God.

He stalks back to the barracks, a clipboard clenched tightly in his hand. The results of his simulation training; nearly every category received high marks save audio confirmation skills. It's difficult to focus on a million things when piloting the ship let alone a million and one. So what if he doesn't affirm simulated command control orders _as soon as_ they're yelled out over the intercom. He's relatively pleased with his scores overall. They've placed him in the top ten percentile trailing only behind more experienced navigators who have a couple more missions under their belts.

Before he makes it to the elevator he catches sight of Porthos. He's waiting alone, something unusual when he and his cronies typically come in pairs. They acknowledge one another but no words are spoken until after they've stepped into the elevator and selected their respective floors.

"Saw you scored pretty high on the sim," Porthos says, eyes following the yellow lights behind the numbers as they descend ever lower in the ship. The words come out under the guise of a compliment.

"I guess," Abel replies trying to sound modest about the whole thing.

"Well don't get too cocky.." Porthos tries to undermine the situation, attempting to reflect his own jealous emotions negatively back onto Abel. He then chances a smirk, his handsome face now occupied by malicious intent.

Abel tightens his lips to keep from saying anything in response. The elevator slows it's speed and comes to a quiet halt. The doors slip open and Porthos slides conveniently out onto the fifteenth floor.

"You know what they say," he turns his head to look over his shoulder, still smiling as he starts to walk off in the direction of his room, "the _bigger_ they are, the _**harder**_ they fall."

The elevator doors shut and Abel finds himself glaring at his own reflection staring back from the silver-plated surface, alone.


	28. wounded

**title:** wounded**  
fandom:** starfighter**  
subject:** abel**  
word count:** 490**  
rating:** G**  
warnings:** n/a**  
notes:** non-canon probably but omg Tiberius' fighter is so hot

**079. wounded**

"Abel?"

He hears it but doesn't respond, instead walking between two other navigators who are on their way out from a debriefing.

"Wait!"

He hears the screech of shoes and another person's rebuttal from being shoved so carelessly out of the way.

"Abel?"

He turns his head.

"From the Reliant, right?" He sees a man walking towards him clad in a dark suit. It marks him as a starfleet fighter. What reason could he possibly have for being in the navigator's quarters?

"I'm the Tiberius' fighter-" he quickly rambles off and suddenly it all makes sense. Abel moves to face him fully and tries to fight his instinctual urge to cower back from the other man who is clearly a foot or so taller than him.

"Oh! Oh, of course!" He cranes his neck slightly to look him in the eye, not eyes because one is covered by an eyepatch and is more than likely the unfortunate result of their fateful encounter. But it is not the only wound dealt to this man...

"Your navigator.." he chooses his words carefully, "I'm so sorry. He was a great pilot." The effort is not wasted, Tiberius' fighter shakes his head slowly and looks at him with one of the saddest, most sincere expressions he's ever seen any person on starbase give him.

"If it hadn't been for you.." he trails off, a hand reaching up to touch the patch covering his damaged left eye. The motion infers that the injury could have been more severe had Abel not purposefully intervened. Two lives could have been lost instead of just one.

"What's going on?" he vaguely hears an onlooker whisper to another.

"He's probably here looking to recruit a new navigator," someone else replies none too quietly. Abel feels a shiver start at the base of his spine and stands paralyzed as it works it's way up climbing transverse process after transverse process, down from his lumbar region til it hits his cervical vertebrae. The other man leans in and suddenly he can't help but cringe in the presence of this unknown person; now not quite a stranger.

He made the conscious decision to help another, this is the consequence of that choice. Surely it's only proper that the saved adulate their savior with regards to life or death situations, right? Tiberius' fighter is only an inch or so away before another navigator's voice interrupts him.

"Hey, Abel! Hurry up! Debriefing is about to begin for red team!"

"R-right.." he politely excuses himself and turns to retreat to the meeting room. The stranger reaches out and captures his arm in a tight grip that betrays his seemingly harmless demeanor.

"I _**will**_ repay you," he says softly like a promise spoken between lovers and finally lets him go.

But when the door to the meeting room shuts and the debriefing officer begins the session, it's the only thing Abel can seem to think about.


	29. source

**title:** source  
**fandom:** starfighter  
**subject:** cain  
**word count: **384  
**rating: **PG-13  
**warnings:** n/a  
**notes:** non-canon but who knows

**029. source**

He slithers up as unannounced as a snake, no warning and no sound but his hand is groping things lesser men have died for even eying. Cain raises an eyebrow and whistles through his teeth.

"I've got something interesting that I think you should hear," the other purrs and leans in closer until he's practically draped over the front of the taller man.

"_Oh**?**_" Cain plays hard to get but his ears are burning and they're the only two left in the elevator. Did he plan it this way? _Sly dog_.

"Remember that fighter team you so **_heroically_** saved a day or so ago? He was part of Tiberius' old team. I think you know who I'm referring to."

He'd nearly forgotten about that, a tight ass and some hot moans enough to block that unsavory memory from the forefront of his mind. The smirk disappears from his face and is replaced with an unreadable expression. He removes the other fighters hand with specific attention to clenching the bones of his wrist none too gently.

"Well I saw him approach your navigator and they were _talking_..."

The accusation shouldn't be any more than what it is, just a straight forward fact that they may have exchanged some words, **so what**, who the fuck cares. Cain barely tightens his fist but the other fighter sees the action regardless.

"Yeah, _**and**_?" Cain snorts, acting not at all impressed but still wanting to know more. "You want some kind of a fucking medal because you saw them talking?" He moves to exit on the next floor but the more lithe of the two of them blocks his way to the button console and gives him a smile he's seen on his own face before in the mirror.

"Maybe I also heard **exactly **what it is was they were _talking _about."

He sees where this is going.

"What do you want?"

It sounds so curt and informal. The other fighter licks his lips and peers up at Cain with a starved look in his eyes. It's clear he's thought about what he wants as payment for this kind of _service_.

"Just a little taste," he says and to whom it's referring to makes a bitter bile rise at the back of Cain's throat. He never did share well.


	30. going

**title: **going  
**fandom:** starfighter  
**subject:** abel  
**word count:** 361  
**rating:** PG  
**warnings:** n/a  
**notes:** more than likely non-canon

**062. going**

_You've been partnered with **HIM**?_

Why does everyone keep saying it like it's a curse? That being paired with one of the best fighters isn't an honor any navigator should be happy to receive? Did they expect him to cower in fear and beg and plead until starcommand reassigned him to a more.. _stable _individual? Perhaps one who was less skilled and below his own ability?

How is that even fair? Doesn't he deserve better?

Able runs the pad of his thumb back and forth along the healing scab drawn vertically at the corner of his lips. The flesh is no longer tender but the memory of sharp pain still resides.

He still doesn't understand what it all means, how Cain could be so right when he first said that everyone would know he belonged to him. Did he plan this? Has he done this before?

Abel is sitting in wait on his bed, the very same bed from last night, and if his ass hurting wasn't proof enough that things had actually happened then maybe part of him might have been willing to chalk it up to wishful thinking. He had wanted someone to fuck him hadn't he? Do all sorts of shameful, erotic and horribly sexual things that aside from daydreaming about were almost to vulgar to mention out loud. He puts his head in his hands, giving up wound picking and tries to focus on other more pressing concerns.

Why was Tiberius' fighter so hesitant the moment he found out about Cain being his partner? Did he notice the bite mark? Will everyone know the day it finally scars? Will they all continue to treat him this way? Part of joining up with starfleet was to get off the pedestal his family's name and reputation had placed him on for years. Was it so wrong to want to be something else?

The autolock door to their dormitory slides open with a mechanical hiss and Cain steps a foot inside. Abel looks up slowly, his eyes hazy and wanton but for no reason other than dismay.

_What's going on here?_

The words never come and the door slides shut.


	31. hands

**title: **hands  
**fandom:** starfighter  
**subject:** cain  
**word count:** 389  
**rating:** PG-13  
**warnings: **adult language  
**notes:** non-canon - fighter relations speculation

**016. hands**

He slams his fist into the reinforced padding of the training pod.

**CORRECT**

The next hit lands above his head as he leans back to kick up his right leg.

**CORRECT**

Every single move is planned, precise, and lethal. Even if it's only a training exercise he treats it like it's life or death.

**CORRECT**

The computer chimes mechanically with every reflexive attack he directs at it. Just as he tenses back with a fist tight to slam into another false enemy only he can see, the air pressure in the room is lessened only slightly, but he _feels _it.

Suddenly his hands are on the intruder, gloved fingers wringing into the neck of some person idiotic enough to disrupt his session. Pale grey eyes stare up at him submissively and if the immense pressure caused by Cain's grip weren't making the veins under his skin bulge out distressingly then perhaps this unfortunate little fighter might look rather smug at getting a near drop on one of starfleet's highest ranking soldiers.

**INCORRECT**

He throws the other against an adjacent wall.

**INCORRECT**

The newcomer closes his eyes and brings his right hand up to reassess that his throat and all it's delicate components are still intact. An angry purple bruising from the assault, albeit however brief, is starting to appear under the collar of his flight suit.

**INCORRECT**

Cain watches behind the visor of his simulation helmet, slowing his breathing and gaining control of his adrenaline filled body.

**YOU HAVE MISSED THREE CONSECUTIVE HITS**

"Fuck," he hisses out, reaching up and removing the headgear.

**SIMULATION TERMINATED**

The smaller more delicate looking of the two slides back up the wall, eyes trained on Cain the entire time. There is no trust despite this temporary truce. Both know he could have easily snapped his neck without restraint.

"You're gonna pay for that," Cain steps frighteningly closer, asserting his dominance over this encounter. A hand hits hard, palm open, next to the stranger's ear but he doesn't flinch; instead he looks oddly expectant.

Their eyes are level and before any other words are said the other fighter leans in to press his lips to Cain's. The kiss is timid, as unromantic as a plea.

"I was hoping you'd say that.. I have news."

Cain's teeth reflect the red of the room's dim lighting.


	32. sink

**title:** sink  
**fandom:** starfighter  
**subject:** cain  
**word count:** 302  
**rating:** NC-17  
**warnings:** explicit sexual content  
**notes:** hm erotic art 036 inspired - pic nsfw

**030. sink**

"Do it," he breathes and watches as Abel hunches his shoulders together in embarrassment, but they've done this hundreds of times already and this momentary shame is nothing new. It just makes every _next_ time feel like their first time.

"C-cain..." he gulps in air desperately and gets up to turn around and reposition himself. He's shaking, all sticky and sensitive from everything they've been doing up until now. Strong hands glide up and down the sides of his body, nails digging in to excite that part of him Cain knows likes to be treated cruelly.

He penetrates himself quickly, deeply and Cain just stares as the shock waves of feeling flood up his partner's spine. Every muscle electrified, twitching and they haven't yet begun. He roves his palm up along the length of Abel's body, from the nape of his neck down to where they are now connected.

Sex is fascinating.

Abel raises himself up using Cain's upper thighs as leverage, his hands are sweaty and trembling. It's wonderful. He bites his lip to keep from making any unwanted noise.

Cain watches his navigator fuck himself; pleasure himself all from behind. He can only imagine what faces he's making; what emotions he's trying to hide. Long ago this stopped being something as casual as release. Abel lets out a loud moan as he sinks back down again. It's too much and he's going to come if he doesn't slow their pace.

It's just too bad that Cain's a sadist at heart and reaches around the front of him to finish the job. As he jerks his partner off, thrusting up all the while, he _almost_ wishes he could care as much as his navigator does..

**Almost**.

He'll settle instead for being the place where all of Abel's heartfelt affections go unreturned.


	33. first

**title: **first  
**fandom:** starfighter  
**subject:** cain  
**word count: **567  
**rating:** NC-17  
**warnings:** explicit sexual content  
**notes: **_**"**how can this mean anything to me if i really don't feel anything at all**"**_

**004. first**

As long as Cain has been stationed on Starbase, he can recall every partnership he's ever had during his service to the Alliance. Many different navigators with many different personalities... and not one of them has ever been this much fun.

When he first laid eyes on Abel, it was on paper where his given name was Ethan and his status was as a new recruit from a distant starcolony two light-years away. Seeing him in person was a little underwhelming, but Cain had the advantage of foresight. This person would not only be his new navigator but also his mission.

And though he was not unfamiliar with this sort of covert operation, it was definitely not something had ever been assigned to do on an individual basis. Ethan, no **Abel**, is a much more interesting person once you get to know him. Who ever would have thought that a nice, rich, _pretty boy_ like him could harbor such dark and debauched fantasies? Definitely not something to expect from a politician's only son...

Part of Cain's pride as a better fighter is his above average intellect, and though it doesn't score him high enough to enter the ranks as an elite, it's more than adequate to fool his charge.

He knows the things that Abel wants because they are carnal and instinctual, lurking deep within all living beings.

_They slam into the wall and the door to their room is barely shut before Abel is grabbing him by the collar, roughly forcing their mouths together. His tongue is slick, hot and forceful, penetrating deep into Cain's mouth and desperately coaxing him to just hurry up because it's been at least fifteen hours since he last felt the others touch on his skin._

_Their kisses are sloppy and wet, ungraceful in the same manner as they peel their flight suits from one another. Abel all but drags him to the bed and they end up a tangled mess of limbs and flesh, neither is fighting for dominancy at this point but both are seeking a greater reward from the end result._

He does the things that Abel desires because he too can relish, unabashed in physical pleasures.

_"C-cain..." Abel moans, his nails raking up his partner's back. They've done this together enough times that Cain knows exactly what the other is asking for with only that singular plea. He spits into his hand and preps himself before fully inserting into the body writhing beneath him. Of course it hurts, but they wanted it this way. Pain and pleasure never feel better unless experienced together; here's hoping it draws blood._

_He bites his lip and begins to thrust hard, deep and with purpose. All he can hear is Abel's labored breathing ringing harshly in his ears. All he can feel is the tightness engulfing him from the waist down. It's so fucking good that if he doesn't concentrate on what he's doing he'll come far too soon. They have a long way to go yet, and Cain's never been the sort of person to waste an opportunity such as this._

But he is not in love or like or even lust. He does what he must and as necessary to complete his secret objective. There is nothing more important to a soldier than his mission, but who says he can't enjoy the work he does while accomplishing his goal?


	34. queen

**title:** queen  
**fandom:** starfighter  
**subject:** abel  
**word count:** 740  
**rating:** PG  
**warnings:** n/a  
**notes:** my longest challenge to date

**047. queen**

"I'll be back later," he says, grabbing his grey Alliance jacket and slipping an arm through the sleeve. It's 03:00 hours until dinner and Red Team is on reprieve to recoup from a previous mission. It's a well earned day off that's been spent sleeping in, surfing the net... and surprisingly _not_ screwing around.

Abel stops typing on his portable vidscreen. He gives his teammate a guarded look before asking, "where are you going?"

Cain offers a sleazy smirk in reply and slaps his hand on their automated door release.

"Wherever I please," is the echo he hears coming back from the hall and the door slides shut then locks. Abel sighs and quietly wonders why he even bothers. If he knows Cain well enough by now, which he does because they've been partnered for nearly two months, he's wearing his standard issue training clothes and is more than likely headed to the fighter's barracks to practice in-flight fighting sims or hand to hand combat.

It is a reminder that are still plenty of things to be done before the day is up and Abel is not exempt from training either. It would be wiser to invest his time in flight simulations as well or take this free day as an opportunity to run some weekly scheduled maintenance on their ship. He is after all in charge of how she handles in-flight and their last mission out could have gone smoother.

He powers down the holographic screen and folds the metal viewfinders back into their holding slots. This computer is a little outdated but it does what it was intended to. Abel sets his vidscreen on their bedside drawer and slowly gets up out of bed, still unclothed from the night before. Checking up on the Reliant is a good way to waste two and a half more hours before meal call.

* * *

He didn't see Cain during dinner. Granted that meal hours are broken into two thirty minute segments over the course of an hour and he may have attended the second meal, Abel withholds his suspicions until Cain saunters through their doorway one hour later. Trailing behind him is another fighter dressed in black, this one much smaller and more demure... but no less lethal in appearance.

Abel has had the misfortune of meeting him before.

"Deimos," Cain snaps and points to the foot of his bed. The other cringes at the harshness of his name and timidly walks over to sit down. Seemingly satisfied, Cain slides open a drawer and grabs his flight suit.

"I'm gonna use the can, you wait here."

So crude, Abel scoffs and looks back down to his vidscreen. The mandatory tests run on the Reliant have come back relatively satisfactory, the only thing Abel can foresee needing a repair is a smaller burner that runs backup to their left wing engine. Easily fixed if he reports a complaint to the mechanics within the next twenty-four hours. He's in the middle of typing his request when he feels their guest eying him from across the room.

It's uncomfortable to say the least, but he does his best to ignore it. Cain doesn't hide the fact that he's a very popular fighter, be it as a partner for training or something else... and Deimos hides none of his own intentions. Instead he glares down his nose at Abel and judges him silently.

Cain reappears half dressed in his flight suit some minutes later, the back of which has yet to be zipped. Deimos immediately stands from the bed and walks around behind his fellow fighter to finish the job. His gloved fingertips take special care running up the nape of Cain's neck to assure that no hair gets caught in the teeth of the zipper.

Abel does not overlook the action; it is meant to be an intimate threat. Deimos wants to show him that his position as Cain's current _partner_ holds no special meaning when others can in fact get close to him as well. Abel watches as they both walk out of the dorm without so much as a word to him or one another. He won't let something like this get under his skin however.

As he returns to typing his maintenance report, he vaguely wonders who holds more sway over a King's heart... the concubines he keeps hidden within his castle or the Queen who always sits at his side?


	35. family

**title:** family  
**fandom:** starfighter  
**subject:** abel  
**word count:** 550  
**rating:** G  
**warnings:** n/a  
**notes:** non-sequitur to timeline maybe

**024. family**

_We are losing this war. This a vital mission... a battleship from Earth, the Sleipner will be docking here within the next few hours._

_**I need volunteers.**_

And in an instant he's five again, running through the artificially grown grasses, chasing after some species of insect native once only to the planet known as Earth. It's fake yet it's real because these things; the air they're breathing, that yellow butterfly, the lush green vegetation, even though he's known from the very beginning that they are just composite fabrications based off of previously existing objects, ideas... they're all he's ever known his entire life... and all he may ever know for the rest of it.

His mother, her golden hair, it blows in a gentle breeze generated from a nearby air duct that is continuously pumping oxygen and non-lethal levels of nitrogen along other inert gases into this false atmosphere. This space colony, it's both natural and not natural at all... but it houses his mother and it is their home, she lovingly opens her arms to him with a smile and waits as he runs towards her. Moments like this are the things that Ethan will treasure most when considering life and the prospect of others living it.

Now a decade has passed and he's fifteen, entering the very first level of personal studies every inhabitant undergoes by rite of age. He doesn't know what he will be yet, but his father has told him countless times that because of his birthing status, to that of a high ranking noblewoman and an intergalactic politician, it ought to be something fitting to honor their family legacy - after all, not every colonist is granted the licensure with implicit regards to proliferation of any sort. He best do his parents proud and represent their genetics as distinguished as possible.

So he takes rounds of tests after tests and scores high in every subject percentile. His father can't seem to be proud enough, but Ethan's not satisfied inside and at night when he retires to his room he thinks about all the things in life beyond those plain walls and outside of this colony, far out into the furthest reaches of space where only those foolish enough to venture go, he thinks about esteem and admiration from a hero's perspective... he thinks about living his life for himself and not as everyone else seems to expect him to. This is the moment when everything changes.

Now he's back in the missions briefing room, surrounded by hundreds of other capable navigators on starbase just like him. A question has been posed still going unanswered, it hangs in the air like a skillful trapeze artist waiting for the perfect moment to finally overwhelm its captive audience.

"No one is willing to volunteer?" he hears commander Cook ask, his words are only met with more ambiguous stares and harsh whispers. But in the short life that he's lived up until now, Ethan can't seem to forget about all of the things that hold meaning to him; real or not, pleasant or not... they're as much a part of him as anything else, and no amount of fear can outweigh the resolve of his final decision.

"Sir!" the sound silences every other voice.

"I'd like to volunteer!"


	36. interrupting

**title:** interrupting  
**fandom:** starfighter  
**subject:** cain  
**word count:** 567  
**rating:** R  
**warnings:** adult language  
**notes:** ( ಠ‸◢) haters gonna hate

**097. interrupting**

"You might be the best fighter on the station, Cain.. but you're still a piece of shit!"

Praxis' accusation stings the way no other physical force in this fight has before, and though he may be handicapped with the loss of eyesight on his left periphery, he's so far proven himself to be a worthy opponent.

There's blood in Cain's mouth; he can't tell where it came from, either his nose or his lips - he doesn't _fucking_ care. The mere idea that someone could make him bleed... he slides his hand down to the outside of his left boot and draws out a pocketknife, small but gleaming with cruel intentions.

He doesn't feel pain even though it's still hard to breathe from having the wind forcibly knocked out of him. Cain lunges, the knifes blade pointedly aimed at the fighter in front of him. He grits his teeth when the initial swipe misses. So close!

**gut him..**** gut him.. GUT HIM**_**!**_

The anger is primeval - threaten or be threaten, kill or be killed. It doesn't matter that Praxis is a brother, another fighter enlisted to serve under the same alliance's cause, Cain just wants him dead.. or damn near close to.

"I'm going to cut your other eye out Praxis!" he snarls it like a promise.

And just as he's about to try again, the alarm sounds. Every level of starbase is rigged with intercom systems set to go off in case of an emergency. Red alerts are the most serious and no matter what a soldier may be doing at the time of the first alert call out, they are responsible for responding immediately.. if able.

"Che.." Cain glares at the l.e.d. lighting as it flashes along the edge of the nearest exit leading to the launch hanger. He doesn't have time for this, he was so **fucking **_**close!**_

Instead of following his baser instincts and ignoring the call in favor of maiming the man before him, Cain quickly hunches back down and replaces the knife along the loosened fabric inside his boot. This will have to wait till later.

Both Cain and Praxis respond to the call despite the fact that the one-eyed fighter is still technically exempt due to recent injury. Neither says a word while running down the long hallways leading to their ships. Tensions remain high, but only for personal vindications that must be put on hold until after the latest threat of enemy attacks are dealt with. Cain sucks any remaining blood from the wound in his mouth to the back of his throat and spits it out contemptuously at Praxis' feet. He receives a glare for this action, but it's never been in his nature to feel the least bit apologetic for any terrible deed he's ever committed.

They separate as they rush into the final air lock, Praxis grabs a helmet and moves into the next room while Cain has to take a moment to discard his civilian clothing before zipping himself into an emergency plugsuit. As he slides his arm into the vinyl like material of the suit, he can't help but think about how good it's going to feel when he can finally settle their little dispute.

But there's no telling whether or not Praxis' new found disability won't be the thing that kills him in battle first.. Cain can only hope for _his_ sake.


End file.
